On the Fluffy Side
by prospectkiss
Summary: Pancakes should be easy to cook, but Phoenix is very good at distracting Edgeworth. Who will win this little game?


_Author's Notes: _ A special holiday treat for those looking for a little romance. At least it was intended to be sweet and romantic, but...

This was originally written for the Phoenix Wright kink meme, as a gift for a wonderful fill I received. The prompter wanted something fluffy between Phoenix and Edgeworth, but the story turned into shameless, shameless PWP (though perhaps it's still a little on the fluffy side).

To those of you who have wanted another more explicit story between these two, well, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The smell of something cooking wafted through the air, making Phoenix stir against the sheets. As he blearily opened his eyes and blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through the window, he realized he was alone in the bed. He drew in a deep breath, mouth widening in a jaw-aching yawn, and stretched out as much as he could. This was one of those rare moments to savor sleeping in, to burrow back into the pillow and pull the covers overhead and relish the lazy, lazy morning.

…Was that _bacon_?

He could hear the familiar sizzle of meat frying, and the sharp smell of food set his stomach rumbling. He kicked the duvet aside and pushed himself up. No use staying in bed now. He fished his boxers off the floor and slipped them on, ran his fingers through his hair to make some of the spikiness return, and set off down the hallway.

Now there was a sight that never failed to put a smile on his face.

Granted, he had many kinds of smiles when it came to Edgeworth. The barely-there smiles when they were first reacquainted. More sincere ones as trust was built, slowly mirrored by small quirks of Edgeworth's lips. Snarky smirks accompanying sarcastic banter, playful grins when he got under Edgeworth's skin. His favorites were the hidden smiles, ones reserved for when he finally got under Edgeworth's clothes, when they were gasping and rocking against each other and doing everything they could think of to drive one another crazy.

This time he felt his lips pull up in a softly bemused curl. Edgeworth was standing in front of the stove, meticulously flipping over strips of bacon. He wore a plain white tee-shirt, which somehow still managed to look sleek and expensive, and his black boxer-briefs. The effect was somewhat marred by the presence of a gaudily pink apron tied around his back.

Phoenix padded behind his lover, smirking, and wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.

"You were supposed to stay in bed," Edgeworth said quietly, moving the pan to another burner to stay warm and leaning slightly into the embrace.

"Hmm, and you were supposed to curl up next to me and keep me warm," he replied.

Edgeworth pulled over a mixing bowl and stirred a wooden spoon around in the batter. "How do you like your pancakes?"

"On the fluffy side."

He pushed his face against Edgeworth's neck, catching the scent of his lover's skin even against the smell of clean fabric and the almost overwhelming smell of bacon. Phoenix could feel the prosecutor's broad shoulder muscles shift, adding a little extra buttermilk into the batch, and his sleep-fogged brain began putting things together.

"So, does this mean you were making me breakfast?"

"Obviously." A dollop of batter settled into a larger pan, spreading out over the heat.

"Breakfast in bed?"

A pink flush appeared over Edgeworth's cheeks. "As it so happens, yes."

He tightened his arms, watching the flush spread over Edgeworth's skin. While Phoenix could be a sentimental idiot at times, the prosecutor was hardly one for romantic gestures, and being caught in the middle of such a display only served to embarrass him.

A joke might be the best way to distract him. "I guess I must have been _really_ good last night if you wanted to keep me there this morning."

Edgeworth relaxed a little as he flipped the bubbling batter over, but chose to ignore the innuendo. "Since the sentiment is already ruined, we'll just eat at the table."

"Still sounds good to me."

The finished pancake was set on a waiting plate, and a new spoonful of batter placed in the pan. Phoenix had to admit the pancake looked rather fluffy, golden and slightly crisp. He was still amazed at Edgeworth's culinary aptitude – and as he mused, another thought settled down into his mind, an idea that would test Edgeworth's cooking talents and his own distraction skills, and he grinned darkly.

He waited until Edgeworth had the cake on the spatula, ready to flip, and he moved his hands to Edgeworth's sides, spreading his palms wide over the sleek tee-shirt, and pressed his lips beneath his ear, right at the sensitive junction where it met his jaw. He heard Edgeworth gasp, twitching in surprise and almost losing his grip on the spatula.

"Careful," he murmured, letting his breath move hotly over Edgeworth's ear. "Don't want to make a mess."

"Wright, this is not the time," Edgeworth said, voice strained, and the cake fell into the pan with something less than grace.

Phoenix kissed that spot again, and let his fingertips edge under the shirt to tease at the skin. Edgeworth stiffened, back muscles pulling up straight.

"I can't make breakfast if you keep hanging over me like a clinging monkey."

"Sure you can. Or is the great Miles Edgeworth unable to concentrate on such a simple task?"

When he got no reply, Phoenix snickered and moved his hand over Edgeworth's stomach, brushing against the warm skin. He untied the apron with his other hand and tossed it aside, and as he did he briefly entertained the thought of Edgeworth wearing nothing _but_ the discarded apron, and he filed that image away for future fantasy material.

He grazed his teeth against Edgeworth's earlobe. "I think it's starting to burn."

Edgeworth suddenly jerked forward and moved the pancake to the plate, and after a moment's slight hesitation, he spooned more batter into the pan.

"If you think you can distract me with this little _game_," he said, gripping the wooden spoon with white knuckles, "you will be disappointed. Your pancakes will be fluffy, and they will be delicious."

Phoenix laughed; he sounded so serious. "Even more delicious than you?"

As Edgeworth turned his head to glare at the corny line, Phoenix darted forward and caught his lips, causing whatever retort the prosecutor had planned to turn into a muffled noise. He moved quickly, just enough to capture the taste of morning tea, and leaned back.

Edgeworth hadn't even had time to close his eyes. Phoenix smirked and nodded at the pan. "So keep working."

Those grey eyes narrowed, and as Edgeworth returned his attention to the stove Phoenix kissed his jaw, trailing his lips past the light stubble and down the side of his neck. He nestled in the junction where it met his shoulder, and let his hands wander back beneath the tee-shirt, lifting the sides to roam against the bare skin.

Edgeworth resolutely avoided looking at Phoenix. When he had the pancake ready to flip, Phoenix chose just that moment to bite down at that junction. To his surprise, he got hardly any reaction – no gasp, no shiver, not even a withering scowl. The only thing that indicated Edgeworth even registered the action was a red blush coloring his cheeks.

Phoenix grinned against Edgeworth's shoulder. This could be interesting.

He nuzzled into silvery grey hair, inhaling the scent of expensive shampoo, and moved his hands to the small of Edgeworth's back, rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles. Another pancake was finished and moved to join the rest. Half the batter was gone, and as Edgeworth ladled more into the pan Phoenix slipped his fingers beneath the band of Edgeworth's briefs and cupped his rear.

"We could have a round here," he said, watching with amusement as Edgeworth's hands slipped and the batter slid over the side of the bowl. He squeezed the firm flesh and couldn't resist pressing himself flush against the prosecutor, reveling in the heat and solid strength. Edgeworth in breathed sharply and scooped up the batter, and continued cooking.

"I don't think we've done it in the kitchen before," Phoenix said, undaunted, letting his voice drop low with heated promise. "So much opportunity: the table, the counter, maybe the wall…" He could feel himself growing hard, wanting to make Edgeworth lose his composure, to forget about breakfast and tumble down onto the floor with him, panting and moaning.

He shifted and slowly moved his hands along Edgeworth's back, rucking up his shirt to reveal pale, toned muscle, running his palms in parallel slides on either side of his spine. God, he could spend an eternity just staring at Edgeworth's back, caressing his warm skin, skimming along his ribs, feeling his muscles twitch in response to every touch. He let his hands roam, rubbing and stroking and pressing firmly, listening to Edgeworth's breath as it sped up.

Another pancake done, looking just as perfect as the others, and another bubbling in the pan. More drastic measures were obviously required. Phoenix slid his hands around Edgeworth's front, brushing his thumbs over already pert nipples. Edgeworth let out a low noise, one that was quickly stifled.

Phoenix felt his own pulse speed up – he was finally getting to the prosecutor. He rolled Edgeworth's nipples in his fingers, pinching and squeezing, and started kissing his neck, so grateful that he didn't have to unravel a cravat.

Edgeworth was breathing hard, his chest moving rapidly. "Wright." His voice was only a touch unsteady. It seemed like he was going to say more, but instead he just swallowed and turned over the pancake.

"Ready to give up?"

Phoenix rocked against Edgeworth, knowing the prosecutor could feel his length, hard and firm, press into his lower back, eliciting a low gasp.

"I think this game is turning against you," Edgeworth said, shifting and glaring at Phoenix. "You should wait for me to finish."

But there was a heat in his eyes, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were a dark red where he'd apparently been biting at them.

And here was the chance for Phoenix to use his favorite smile, one only Edgeworth was permitted to see, his lips quirking up in a seductive smirk. He trailed one hand down Edgeworth's front, and pressed his palm into the bulge straining against the fabric of the dark boxer-briefs. Edgeworth shut his eyes, reflex briefly overriding his competitive streak, and a low noise of pleasure slipped past his lips.

For all that Edgeworth had tried to ignore him, Phoenix found himself in a position to win. He grinned wolfishly.

"I think that one's done," he said, moving his hand over Edgeworth in teasing strokes.

Edgeworth's eyes snapped open and he quickly plated the not-yet-burned pancake. He gripped the sides of the stove, his hips making quick, halting jerks against his lover's fingers.

Phoenix rolled down the briefs just enough to free Edgeworth's length and he immediately started stroking, tunneling his fist and moving in long, slow pulls.

"I think there's enough left for one more," he whispered in Edgeworth's ear. "Can you finish it?"

"W-Wright, I–"

His protest was cut short, turning into a strangled moan as Phoenix twisted his hand, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot at the base of Edgeworth's cock. Phoenix rocked hard against him and licked the shell of his ear.

"Come on, finish it."

Slowly, his quick breaths turning into heady pants, Edgeworth poured the last of the batter into the pan. As they waited for each side to cook Phoenix kept stroking, thumbing against the head of Edgeworth's erection and spreading the liquid bead of precome down along his length. Edgeworth groaned, hips pushing forcefully into Phoenix's grip. Phoenix moved his other hand back to Edgeworth's chest, brushing over his nipple again, and rocked his own hips in time with his pulls.

He moved faster, dropping his head against Edgeworth's shoulder and grinding hard into his back, wanting to touch everywhere that made Edgeworth moan, listening to the noises of pleasure that they both let loose, knowing he was close, that if he could just work him a little more…

And he heard the spatula clatter against the pan, felt Edgeworth push back against him. He looked up time to see his lover turn off the stove, a perfect stack of pancakes waiting for them on the plate.

He leaned back, hands going slack. "Wow Miles, I didn't think you'd actually–"

This time his words were abruptly cut short as Edgeworth turned around and clenched Phoenix's upper arms, short nails digging in fiercely, and forced him to move backward until he was slammed against the kitchen counter, the edge digging painfully into his back. The prosecutor's face was fixed in an expression of righteous fury, with an undercurrent of heavy desire.

Phoenix swallowed thickly, wondering just how afraid he should be.

"Miles, I–"

He was silenced by Edgeworth's glare. The prosecutor's eyes were narrow pools of grey, dark and dangerous. He leaned in close, causing Phoenix to arch his back and clutch at the counter for balance. Phoenix was vaguely aware of Edgeworth's length pressed against him, still hard.

"Isn't this what you wanted, Wright?"

Edgeworth's hands gripped the elastic of Phoenix's flimsy boxers and pushed them to the floor, stripping him in one quick motion. Phoenix barely had time to register his sudden nudity before Edgeworth maneuvered a leg between his knees.

"Didn't you _want_ to drive me mad? To ruin my efforts to do something nice for you? To thoroughly distract me and claim my full attention?" Edgeworth's voice was low, fury lacing the husky tone.

Phoenix started to shake his head, but in one swift movement Edgeworth crushed their mouths together, forcing Phoenix's lips to part and thrusting his tongue inside, plundering his lover's mouth with an intensity Phoenix had rarely experienced. Suddenly the only thing that mattered was melding his own mouth with Edgeworth, kissing back frantically.

He was quickly losing breath, feeling dizzy from the lack of air or the kiss or both, when Edgeworth pulled back just enough to speak, lips ghosting over his with each word.

"You've had your fun, Wright, but I still won. Now, what do I get in return?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but Edgeworth again closed his lips over him, resuming his soul-searing kiss. At the same time he felt Edgeworth's fingers curl over his length, caught between them and leaking against his stomach. He moaned into prosecutor's mouth as he realized he was trapped; Edgeworth had him pinned at such an angle that if he moved his hands he would lose his balance. He had no choice but to endure whatever punishment the prosecutor wished to give him.

Edgeworth was merciless; he worked Phoenix quickly, relentlessly, the friction just this side of painful, pulling harder, faster. He moved his knee between Phoenix's legs, just enough to brush against his testicles, sending a jolt of pure sensation coursing like lightning through him. Somewhere in the midst of rocking into that heated hand, of feeling Edgeworth grinding his own erection into his side, of feeling waves of arousal threaten to undo him, Phoenix wondered how many other games he could lose.

Edgeworth finally released his lips and moved to his neck, biting hard. It was enough – it was too much – Phoenix keened high in his throat, clutching the counter so intently he was half-afraid of leaving nail marks as he came, hard, brutally hard, coating his stomach and Edgeworth's hand.

It took him a while to realize Edgeworth had stopped moving; in fact, now that the giddy high of release was fading, he realized the prosecutor had stepped away from him. Phoenix heard the faucet turn on and off as he slid down the counter to the floor, his knees trembling and unable to support him.

A moment later Edgeworth returned, the mess on his hands rinsed away, and Phoenix felt a twinge of guilt as he saw that his erection was still full. Edgeworth's fingers cradled the back of his head as he loomed over him.

"Finish it."

The words were hard, mocking Phoenix's earlier taunts. He lifted his gaze and saw cool grey eyes staring intently at him, and for a long moment neither of them moved.

Finally, Edgeworth closed his eyes, and his voice was softer, full of need: "Please."

That word, low and strained, galvanized Phoenix. Edgeworth had been holding back for so long, and if Phoenix shirked away now he would feel like an utter bastard. He rose to his knees and rolled the black boxer-briefs all the way to the floor, allowing Edgeworth to step out of them. He held on to Edgeworth's hip and moved his other hand to the small of his back, pulling him slightly closer, sliding it down to squeeze and massage his rear as he trailed light nips and kisses down his hard stomach.

Edgeworth's fingers carded through his hair, mussing up the already messy spikes even more, and his thighs shook slightly as Phoenix's lips finally reached the base of his erection. He held that hard length in one hand, palm warm against the underside, and continued his line of gentle licks and kisses until he reached the head. He looked up and watched Edgeworth's face go slack with pleasure as he opened his mouth and took him in, swallowing him halfway down.

The groan Edgeworth let out, loud and unrestrained, as he threw back his head and fisted both hands in the attorney's hair, let Phoenix know just how much his teasing had affected the prosecutor. He swirled his tongue around Edgeworth's length, used his hand to wrap around the rest of his cock, and began bobbing his head back and forth.

Edgeworth was louder than usual, panting and sighing and offering moans of encouragement as Phoenix worked, spurring him to move faster, to use more suction, to gently roll Edgeworth's testicles in his palm and lick them briefly before sliding his cock between his lips again, over and over. Edgeworth's hips rocked into him, urgent and barely controlled, and eventually he hollowed his mouth and let the prosecutor pump into his mouth.

Only a few thrusts, only a moment of sliding into his warm, wet heat, and Edgeworth started to tense, his fingers tugging insistently.

"Wright– Ph-Phoenix I…"

Phoenix drew in a sharp breath through his nose, savoring the musky scent of Edgeworth, the taste of him, and moved as far along his length as he could, almost to his throat. Edgeworth cried out, startled at the overwhelming sensation of being almost fully engulfed, and could finally hold out no longer. Phoenix swallowed around him, holding him in place until his climax finished.

And then Phoenix pulled Edgeworth down, wrapping his arms around him as he collapsed against him, thoroughly exhausted. They huddled together on the floor for a long while, just panting and listening to each other's frantic heartbeats slow down. Edgeworth was the first to lean back, brushing Phoenix's hair out of his face.

"After that little stunt, don't expect me to make you breakfast again anytime soon."

But his eyes were soft, his voice warm and satisfied.

Phoenix hugged him closer. "If you say so. But it was worth it."

Edgeworth made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort, and they both started laughing, and Phoenix briefly considered that maybe _this_ was actually his favorite smile to use with Edgeworth, full and open and joyously happy.

"Come on," he said, pulling Edgeworth up with him off the floor. "Don't want our breakfast to get any colder."

After prodigious use of the microwave, he lingered in the doorway with the stack of pancakes, perfect and on the fluffy side, and put on his most hopeful expression.

"Let's stick to your original plan. Breakfast in bed."

To his surprise, Edgeworth simply nodded, moving past him into the bedroom with a small smile. Phoenix, eyebrows raised high, followed.

A few moments later, he padded back to the kitchen and grabbed the syrup, a sly grin on his face.

One more moment later, he also picked up the apron.


End file.
